


of our own confinement

by protectoroffaeries



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Pining, they're trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 21:23:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10839711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protectoroffaeries/pseuds/protectoroffaeries
Summary: John and Angelica Laurens are in love - but not with each other.





	of our own confinement

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself sad.

Angelica examines herself in the mirror. If she stands sideways, she can see how her stomach has begun to curve outward, ever so slightly. She has missed three cycles of woman's monthly affliction now; there is hardly any doubt that she is with child.

Her husband, and the father of her child, naturally, seemed neither pleased nor upset upon hearing the news. He simply sighed and glanced at his daughter by his late first wife. Young Frances is mostly tended to by a nanny, but her father is surprising fond of her. He certainly makes more time for her than Angelica's father did, and Philip Schuyler was far from neglectful. 

But John Laurens has never been a man that she can fully understand. He perplexes her half of the time. She relates to him in more ways than she thought possible for a man and a woman  _ could  _ relate, but perhaps that is Alexander's fault. He is their shared weakness. But relating to specific struggles is quite different than truly understanding, and that is a distinction she's learned quite well.

Part of her hopes the child will be a boy, solely because she never wants to have sex with John again. The only night they managed to get far enough to conceive this child she now carries was their wedding night. It was easily the most emotional night of her life - and not in the overwhelmingly positive manner that her sisters described their own wedding nights.

To his credit, John did warn her that such things were not to his enjoyment, but she could not have predicted the long silence that stretched between them before they began to underdress. And then he spoke to her, in soft French, about Alexander. Perhaps it was all he could do to ignite his passions; it certainly caught the attention of her own. That was fine, although it did make her feel slightly guilty, listening to the affairs of her sister's husband. He kept whispering as he held her, as he touched her, as he moved in her. He closed his eyes, and she closed hers, and from there they followed John's words. Finished with the name  _ “Alexander,”  _ on their lips.

And then they both cried for their shame, for their loss, and in their bitter jealousy. Of all the times she pictured her wedding night as a young girl, never did she imagine weeping with her husband over a man that they coveted together and neither could have. Certainly, from the over-hot and sticky embrace of her marriage bed, Eliza looked like the luckiest woman on God's Earth.

Angelica can't recall seeing a grown man weep before or after that night.

However, part of her wants another daughter. She will not have to worry about John interfering with her relationship with her child as much if it is a girl, because she would not have the same responsibilities as a firstborn son. However, she is loath to subject a daughter to this male-dominated world they live in. Already she worries about Frances, about what will be expected of her. Even though they are not blood, she does not want John's daughter to find herself in a marriage like theirs. She does not think she would wish that upon anyone.

Though, she reminds herself, it could be worse. John is not a bad husband; he does not abuse her, and his interest in her comfort and happiness seems genuine. At times, he does become lost within his mind, but for a man who's won a war and lost a wife and lover, that is unsurprising. She is content with him when she does not think about what she could've had, and she likes to think that he looks at her the same way. They may not have the love between them that Eliza and Peggy write pages upon pages about, but they care for one another.

Angelica tries to be satisfied.

As the months pass, and Angelica swells with child, John seems to grow more agreeable to the notion of another child. For instance, he touches her more often, though only about where their child is growing, and he smiles brightly when it kicks against his hand. So long as they do not think about its conception, or Alexander, their home is at peace.

Unfortunately, they cannot keep Alexander out of their home forever. John often meets him at his own place (and returns home in a sour mood), but rarely do they entertain the Hamiltons. Angelica thinks Alexander understands; his presence lingering in their hall would only taint their marriage further. But sweet Eliza, she does not know Angelica's heart - or John's. She doubts that Alexander has shared his wartime affairs with his wife; Eliza would probably bar John from the house if she knew.

So they cannot decline her requests to visit when Angelica is heavy with child. Angelica tries, insists that she is tired, but Eliza promises so sweetly that she and Alexander will be helpful guests, not hindrances. Finally, she is forced to relent, and though John frowns deeply at the news, he tells her that her decision was the right one.

Alexander lies to her when he tells her that she looks lovely, fat with another man's child. She barely resists the urge to slap him.

John is uncomfortable.

Thankfully, the Hamiltons have their own household, and as such, can't spare more than a week and a half. When they leave, Angelica breathes the deepest sigh of relief. It takes a few more days for the storm in John's heart to quite, but she understands. She thanks him for being civil with her sister, and he nods. They are not ones for deep exchanges.

The child is born in August. Angelica's flesh bubbles and boils, coating it in a layer of sickly sweat, as she  _ pushes  _ and  _ pushes _ her child into the world. The process is slow, the pain is agonizing, blinding, and the midwife is of little comfort. Hazily, she thinks if by some miracle John manages to impregnate her again, they'll have find someone else to midwife.

But the child is born, and she seems healthy. She cries immediately, and she has no outward signs of illness or curse. She is a beautiful babe, and when Angelica holds her, she feels more joy than she's ever felt in her entire life.

It is improper for men to be in the room while a child is being born, but as soon as the midwife tells John that he is now a father of two girls instead of one, he comes in. Angelica finds that she is happy to see him gives a small smile upon looking at them. He tries. He tries so hard. They both do.

“What will we name her?” he asks.

Angelica did not expect him to ask her opinion. The proper thing to do would be to name her after one or both of their mothers, perhaps John's because she has passed. That would please his father. Or they could name her for one of their sisters; Elizabeth is not a bad name for a young lady, and neither is Martha.

But Angelica knows this is not what she wants.

“I have an idea, but you may not like it,” Angelica says, and if John doesn't approve, then she will not fight him. She tells him the name, and his face goes blank, an unreadable, emotionless mask. But he allows it. Gives her a sharp nod of consent.

They name their daughter Alexandra. 


End file.
